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✘ tf: fall of cybertron | perceptor

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... Has anyone heard from Smokescreen, of late? He's... been suspiciously silent.

[There's an awkward silence, before his tone suddenly turns brusque. As if brushing off the other words.]

Likely, he's become bored of his studies with me, and is avoiding the work. I'll... simply have to drag him back, if that's the case...

[He trails off, something in that tone failing him.]

That said... I'm in the middle of some very intensive trials. So I would prefer any and all interruptions or visitors to be kept to the bare minimum. Unless you're answering the aforementioned question.

[Translation: I'm working so hard so I don't think about missing people.]

[The feed is then full of that awkward silence until he simply shuts it off.]

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Just...give me a klik or two.

[Although from the sound of it, he's going a bit faster than he lets on.]

Probably should show up on time.

Very well. I'll be working.

[No, he doesn't sound relieved, that's your imagination.]

[When Wheeljack finally arrives, he chooses to use the codes over busting in (although granted, he had to think that one over for a few minutes), heading right for the main part of the lab.

In his hands is his Forge, setting it down to lean on the handle.]

How's the search party.

[He's standing at his console, his head bowed over it. He doesn't even look up when Wheeljack enters, whole posture slumped...]

[Defeated.]

... Token, only.

I doubt anyone is truly looking.

[Leaving his Forge, he wanders over to the large bot, looking up. He knows that stance--that posture. It's the same one he's used to pulling, when learning another Wrecker's gone.

He huffs, turning his head to the side at hearing that last part.]

I'll look, if I hafta.

[He shakes his head. He has to maintain focus. To not think about anything but what he is feeling.]

[... Even if he doesn't want to focus on the deepening sense of loss.]

You don't have to.

[I know it's useless.]

Not about what I want, is it?

[His hand reaches back, hoisting up his Forge, only to set it down as he leans against the wall closest to Perceptor.]

's...what you need.

[His posture shifts a little. In order to move himself nearer the Wrecker, though he doesn't entirely seem aware of it.]

[Focus. Don't feel.]

I... have utterly no idea what it is I need, to be tiredly frank with you.

[He notices, but knows better than to mention anything. No need to make this even more awkward.]

Little stability would be nice, for starters.

[There's a halfhearted shrug at that, as if musing to himself.]

You know...just tryin' to help.

I... would like that, I think.

[He's stopped typing for the moment, looking down at his hands.]

[Like they're the most interesting thing in the room.]

... But it won't happen, will it? Stability of that sort is utterly improbable. Borderline impossible.

Ain't that the fraggin' truth.

[He pauses for a moment, though, considering.]

Tell ya one thing, though. I'm not goin' anywhere.

[He seems...oddly confident about that.]

Mm.

[He shakes his head. And before he can really restrain himself--]

You seem oddly confident about that.

[--the words, from the mental sensation, just pop out.]

[His eyes flick up, leaning further on his forge and tapping the table that Perceptor seems to be oddly fixated on.]

I am.

[His finger then travels to his shoulder, where his Glyph glows bright, intricately detailed now thanks to Solus.]

Solus promoted me. Guess it makes me...uh..less likely to get called to the Badlands. Like...for good.

[And his eyes cast down, shifting a bit awkwardly.]

Thought you'd wanna know. If it..helps.

[His optics end up being drawn to Wheeljack's hand. He looks at it in silence for a moment, follows it as it moves.]

[Something... softens in his face. While something else seems to twist.]

I...

[He has utterly no idea how to answer that. He's touched and uncertain and a bit awkward.]

[So his hand just reaches out. Touches the one on Wheeljack's shoulder.]

It... does. It does somewhat.

[Thank you.]

[When that hand hovers over his, eventually placing itself, Wheeljack doesn't even flinch. It's like he's suddenly come to the realization that things could be okay.

He's stuck here for awhile, and that feeling is kind of grounding.

Loss would happen, definitely, but they wouldn't lose him.]

Well lookit that, I didn't mess up.

[Grounding.]

[That's a feeling he wouldn't like to feel more often. He feels his fingers curl unwillingly around the Wrecker's, and stay there.]

[He can't lose this. Some days, it feels like the last support left. Something he never thought he'd need so much.]

Nothing blew up, so I don't see why you're so surprised.

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